


you know you're in love (when you can't fall asleep)

by sunnylittledragon



Category: RWBY
Genre: College AU, F/F, Flirting, Just a tad bit dirty, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Mild Sexual Content, Phone Bees, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnylittledragon/pseuds/sunnylittledragon
Summary: A soulmate's purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life and pick up the pieces in a new formation. Blake does all of that. She is all of that.





	1. Chapter 1

The students around her are either half-asleep or have mentally spaced out as their professor –a stubby old man with uneven grays and specs the size of magnifying glasses, lectures on about the state of equilibrium, without a care in the world. Yang keeps her eyes forward and jots down in her notebook. Ten more minutes and her Thermodynamics (advanced) class would be over and she would be done for the rest of the day. Her eyes move to the clock above the board and she frowns at time’s purposefully slow pace.

A moment later, class dismisses and Yang gathers her stuff and walks leisurely out the door. She pulls her phone from her back pocket. It’s a little after four, so she figures she’ll get a bite to eat to kill some time. She walks the same path she usually does to the mess hall. A little shortcut she had accidentally found one day when she was really hungry and didn’t want to deal with the lines.

It's quiet. Yellow dandelions, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom crumble beneath her feet between the cracks of concrete. This wind is chilly but welcomed. Blake would scold her to dress a little warmer and Yang would respond with one of her infamous grins and mention something about being a human space heater. Blake would respond with an amused eye-roll but usually wouldn’t argue after that.

The thought unconsciously brings a sad smile to Yang’s face, and she can’t help but check her phone again and think about how different the time zones must be. The cafeteria isn’t very crowded on Thursday afternoons and so Yang walks right up to one of her favorite food stands. She orders her usual and the cashier knows to up-size her meal on an _undisclosed_ discount. One of the benefits of knowing the right people around campus. Yang mumbles a quick thanks accompanied by a wink that has the young freshmen girl behind the register swooning. The good old 'Xiao-Long Charm' hasn't failed her yet.

She sits at an empty table by the glass windows secluded away from any commotion, casually eating in silence and fist-bumping a few classmates that pass by. Her phones buzzes and she nearly drops the fry that was just about to go inside her mouth. It’s a text message, and curiosity blended with mild excitement consume her.

It’s a text from Ruby who sends her a screenshot of a conversation between her and Weiss. It basically looks like (with clever word usage) Ruby managed to trick Weiss into saying they’ll be ‘ _bffs forever_ ’. Yang chuckles and sends a simple text back.

_-Devious._

Yang met Weiss, the German native who could sass and smart mouth like no other, through a foreign exchange student program freshmen year. It was mainly to help new students become acquainted with college life. They hung out a lot over the summer, visiting their home in Patch on multiple occasions. Ruby had taken an interest quickly in Weiss’ pretentious attitude. Saying one bite from a batch of Tai's famous cookies would humble the Ice Queen, and though it took a while for Weiss to open up to her little sister, the two have eventually become good friends ever since.

And then her face sinks a tad as she flips her phone idly in her hand.

It’s been two weeks since the semester started, and Yang can’t act like things are normal, pretend that she’s fine. Not when Blake isn’t here. The world makes sure she doesn’t go a day without forgetting it either. Blake’s imprint is left on every inch of University. Where they would study together, eat together, and hang out on Friday nights after class. The memories can be kept, and Blake is integrated with every aspect of Yang’s life. It feels almost as if a limb has been removed and the ties are severed the second she booked her flight.

Blake is currently studying abroad for the spring semester. She’s majoring in creative writing in hopes of becoming an established book author in the future with a side of freedom fighting to go with it. While Blake initially expressed uncertainty –she was a great writer– it was Yang who was practically packing her bags not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“ _It’s the opportunity of a lifetime you gotta go!_ ”

And so, regardless of Blake’s doubts and Yang’s persuasion, she accepts the offer.

It isn't until literally the day of Blake’s flight that it happens. All packed up and waiting in the airport terminal to fly halfway across the world is when the realization hits Yang. Hits her hard enough to dent, splinter, and crack, erupting like an earthquake, and then it all collapses, suddenly opening up and swallowing her whole.

Blake is leaving.

Her other half will be gone for four months and Yang is terrified. Terrified, because she’s in love with her best friend and she hadn’t known till this very moment. Blake, one of the most loyal, passionate, and incredibly attractive girls Yang has ever been blessed with the chance of ever knowing was leaving her. Something had flickered on like a switch within her, burning bright. Sporadic sensations overwhelm her, manifesting her ability to feel more alive than ever before. She would ignore it if it wasn't the only thing running in her mind and pumping in her veins. The choice to love is not a feeling; it is an _action_ and Yang makes the decision to leap.

The flight operator calls for all International flights to begin departure over the microphone. They call to board by sections and people are lining up. Blake isn’t paying attention to Yang, too busy gathering her belongings and making sure her ticket is in sight to show the attendant.

Yang gently pulls at her wrist. “Wait,” she takes several moments to adjust, swallowing a lump in her throat and she huffs out a breath before the hold she has on bravery slips through her fingers. Blake waits, expectant and trusting, like how she always looks and Yang and it's so overwhelming that Yang just _fucking_ goes for it. “I like you.”

Everything stops and narrows down to this one moment. Yang blinks rapidly. The people traveling around them are blurry figures that are moving about in slow motion. It's too quiet. And then Yang feels a crumbling underneath her feet. All she can feel is hopelessness seep into every inch of her being, caving in and making it hard to breathe. Surely this is where everything ends. The worst possible combination of three words that could have been said was said and Yang is waiting for her world to end.

Blake just stands there, eyes wide, lips parted, and body rooted to the floor. “Yang, I–”

“Flight 459 boarding Terminal 3 Area C.” The operator’s dull voice interrupts, and it’s the last call to get on her flight and so Blake –gold eyes bleary and uncertain, has no other choice but to turn away and leave. Her small frame eventually being swallowed up by the crowd until Yang loses sight of her.

Her flight was nearly twelve hours long and by the time Blake texts Yang that she’s made it safely, Yang is already curled up in bed asleep. She doesn’t open the notification until the very next day and doesn't text Blake back.

-Made it.

_The message mentions nothing about Blake liking her back._

Aside from the initial angst. It’s not so bad –knowing- that Blake knows Yang’s feelings extend beyond friendship, they never make anything weird of it. In fact, it makes Yang infinitely way more comfortable talking to Blake. A weightlessness off her shoulders that lets her just be.

This is what’s become of them. A long-distance friendship/relationship thing? Yang isn’t too sure because now that her feelings are out in the open, she flirts _harder_ than ever before and Blake doesn’t deny. Definitely not. Instead, she just goes along with it, matching Yang’s energy with a tenacity that left her speechless the first couple times. Maybe it's a bad idea to tread waters without any supervision, of no direction on where they're going but still unable to stop themselves from drifting further and further away from what they were used to. But that place is so skewed now that maybe this is what they were used to.

Yang loves every second of it.

There’s that never-ending battle between thrill and anxiousness bubbling in the pit of her stomach. It’s annoying, she gets like this every time she says something she shouldn't, but she doesn't give a damn. If Yang knew the only repercussions of asking Blake things like ' _if she ever thought about playing a few rounds of strip poker,_ ' was a jab at her ego and a sultry response claiming she didn't have the guts, then her only regret is not having told Blake ages ago how she felt.

Blake hasn't texted back since morning Yang's time and she understands that being in a foreign country means there will be times where Blake will be busy. So, Yang gets it –though impatient, she accepts that she'll have to take the backseat and let Blake experience what life is like outside of boring classrooms and brickwork campuses.

____

 

Yang is sitting on her couch in her one-bedroom apartment lazily flipping through channels, her phone lays close to her side –just in case– it's about seven o’clock in the afternoon and still nothing from Blake. Not that she’s worried. That girl is probably wrapped up in another endeavor that she’ll tell Yang all about. Whether it be a dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the country or debriefing with the president on social injustices on the Faunus race Blake was going to give Yang the details.

And when one of those commercials about goats comes on, that’s Yang’s cue to get up and grab a can of soda from the fridge.

Then her phone is vibrating and ringing from where she left it on the couch.

_Oh shit._

Yang sprints with a speed that could rival Ruby’s, fumbling with the answer call button, she answers quickly while trying to hold back her deep breaths.

“Hey, Blake.” She lets out effortlessly, with a hint of suave that is only reserved for her best friend.

“Hi, Yang,” She says. There’s that smoky tone of voice that Yang’s missed so much. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“Nah, of course not.” She waves off, pressing her phone between the crook of her neck and shoulder so she can pick up the can she dropped earlier and put it back in the fridge. She didn’t need the caffeine, not while Blake gave her the rush she needed.

“Then why do you sound out of breath?” She hums, sounding disbelieving.

Yang can see the face, see the smirk she's making through the phone, even with the thousand-mile distance, it's not like she doesn't know Blake. They were so close. So a part of each other, that one did not know where she ended, and Blake began.

“I don’t like the accusing tone, _Belladonna_. I just got back from the gym for your information.” She responds, and technically it wasn’t a total lie even if she went a whole hour ago, there’s no need to mention that part.

“Mhmm sure." It's teasing, but it isn't pushy, it’s so absolutely Blake.

Yang’s heart thumps in her chest.

“Anyways,” She shuts off her television and wanders to her bedroom, falling backward unceremoniously on her bed. “How’s your day been? Did you go on any wild and crazy adventures today?”

“It was good, great actually, I went on a gondola with one of my classmates. We rode through the center of the city and took lots of pictures, the scenery is absolutely breathtaking... I really wish you could have been there. I think you would have loved it.”

She probably would have, Yang loved doing anything and everything with Blake.

A beat passes. Not an ounce of hesitation. “We’ll go together someday.”

“Yeah?”

“I promise.”

Yang can’t think of a life without Blake, if there was even a chance of them never meeting, she can't fathom that. Not having someone like Blake who just _gets_ her. A partner’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life and pick up the pieces in a new formation. Blake does all of that. She _is_ all of that. Yang's arm slides up the sleeve of her tattoo and feels her pulse hammering in the crook of her elbow.

“What about you?” Blake asks, and Yang can hear the yelp the springs in her mattress make. “What did you do today?”

The small movements catch Yang’s attention, assertively forcing her to focus only on Blake’s shifting. “Ah, same old same. Had class, which I’m pretty sure Port’s planning a surprise pop quiz on Monday.”

“Anything else?” She presses with genuine curiosity.

“Oh yeah, some random kid at the gym bet that he could bench more than me. He almost got sent to the hospital.” Blake laughs, and the sound sends a warmth thrumming throughout Yang’s body. It’s so contagious that Yang laughs with her. “These muscles aren’t just for show you know.”

“They certainly aren’t.”

Oh, here they go again with the dangerous game. Where one says something that sounds harmless but has way too _much_ meaning layered beneath it. It's always in Yang’s mind, she feels like they’re both thinking the same things, but never saying them aloud.

“What’s that supposed to _mean_ , Blake?”

“Just that you’re really strong.”

“Sounds more like you trying not to fantasize about my abs." Yang drones cockily, unashamed flexing for emphasis, there's no turning back at this point but still, she’s allowing for Blake to map out exactly where this conversation is heading.

(They always drift out at sea though.)

“I’m not... I like your arms more.” She hears Blake stretch out lazily and it paints a picture, even though Yang has seen this side to Blake before it still affects her, she’s just as full of surprises as Yang is and burns with the same intensity.

And honestly, she wasn’t expecting _that_. For her to willingly say she like's a part of Yang that she casually shows off regularly. Blake not only has control but she’s winning by a landslide. Yang doesn’t want to back out even though she knows she should...

She coughs, neck hot and pulse coming alive in sixty-eight-degree weather. “Hey, isn’t it like midnight over there?”

"Technically, it's one in the morning," Blake confirms, and Yang can hear the subtle hint of sleep in her voice.

"Ah, so it's late, in that case... what are you wearing?" Yang questions with a small does of rasp, she tries to go for the more clear-cut route to get a rise out of Blake. It’s a joke (Yang is not kidding). A little harmless fun, but with the turn of recent events and Blake’s flirting more hazardous, the air around them is thickens even through the static of the phone call.

“Yang...”

“–I’m kidding.” She falters, squeezing her eyes shut, backing out entirely.

They usually had the habit of talking on the phone for hours. Speaking on their dreams, interactions with classmates and school, or their family's whereabouts. Ruby and Weiss come up in conversation as well. Remembering moments between all four of them that usually have Blake and Yang holding their stomachs from laughing so hard. Memories kept in the back of their minds. Futures left unsaid. They talk so well into the night sometimes, eventually, one or both end up falling asleep on the line until one has no choice but the hang up to get ready to go to class the next morning.

It puts things into perspective.

True love goes beyond the initial passion, it feels like being home – you are a team and go through life’s ups and downs as partners. Love is freedom, it never feels restrictive. It’s a warm, glowing sensation, spreading through the body, tangible, and the trivial things that once held your attention, fade away into insignificance. That's how this feels to Yang.

Blake has a lot of stories, she has a roommate who likes danger, not the same kind that Yang likes. This kind will eventually get a person arrested if they're not careful, and Yang scolds Blake to save the fun for when she's back in the states. They think it's a good idea to stick around on campus when Blake comes back home since summer classes will be starting three weeks from then. They'll fill in the time with crazy adventures and mischief that'll have them talking about it for the rest of their days.

Yang makes that promise.

They've been talking for hours and joking for minutes when suddenly it’s nine at night Yang’s time, three in the morning Blake’s and that’s when she says it.

"A black silk button-up."

“What?” Yang blurts, and for a second the line is so quiet she thinks maybe her mind made up what she thought she heard Blake say.

But then she hears Blake take a deep breath. An inhale then an exhale. "I said –I'm wearing a black silk button-up."

_Oh._

_Oh fuck._

“What about _you_?” She hears Blake whisper and –by the Gods -she can’t believe this is actually happening.

Yang looks down at herself. She forgot and now... her breathing changes, goes heavy. “My orange tank top and boxer shorts.” She clears her throat and holds the phone more firmly to her ear. “Are you wearing anything else?”

This has to be a dream. The wild ones that she kept locked away in the deep recesses of her mind. The same ones that had been clawing their way to the surface ever since she confessed.

“Just -just some underwear.” Blake nervously tells her, stumbling over her words, voice sounding small and quiet and attractive in every kind of way.

“What kind?” Yang doesn’t even sound like herself.

There are some muffled sounds of rustling and then Blake is breathy right against her ear. “Black with lace.”

“ _Fuck_.” Yang curses, her neck arches back its own volition and she is beyond turned on at this point with a hand traveling up and down on her tense abdomen, sinking deeper into her bed she thinks this is the best way to die.

"Let me just... undo a button," Blake says, with a shaky breath and it sounds like all of them are coming undone, it's uncoordinated as Yang tries to envision it, she's probably fumbling while trying to keep the phone pressed between her ear and shoulder.

Yang knows it’s probably to get some air and so she nods her head and then remembers she’s on the phone and that Blake can’t see her. Her hands slip down, thumb tugging on the elastic waistband of her boxer shorts. Breathing louder than ever, Yang's certain it sounds like she’s in the _same_ room as Blake and not several miles away. Oh, how she wishes that were the case instead.

But if she leaves it up to Blake now, they’re never going to get any further and this will just be just one twisted memory that they’ll bury away and try to ignore like nothing ever transpired between them.

_Not happening._

More nervous than she has ever been in her whole life, she takes a deep, deep breath and with her greatest efforts tries to steals her nerves. “Are you–”

A little noise makes its way out of Blake’s throat, strained like she’s biting her bottom lip and when Yang groans a little in response – _wow_ yeah, so this is definitely what they’re doing.

“I am.”

Yang gets this incredibly vivid image in her cloudy head and even though she’s only imagining here, it makes heat flood to the lower half of her body. She’s never felt anything quite so strong before. Her eyelids lower. “Touch yourself for me.”

Blake’s answer is to bite her lip in an attempt to stifle her moan. Yang can tell, can see it all in the way Blake fails so horribly.

“Blake, _fuck_ , don’t stop yourself.” Yang pleads, not meaning to sound so desperate but too far gone to care.

Face impossibly hot at this point, her hand drifts lower on its own and the hushed, throaty sound causes Blake to whimper when she breathes out.

"I wish you were here." Blake gasps out. _No fucking way_. Yang thinks no way she had any intention or foresight in saying that at all. It just couldn't be possible.

"Would you let me touch you?" Yang presses, voice shaky and truthfully, she's a little light-headed. But she has to know. Even though at this point they both know the answer, still she needs confirmation. The validation that Blake is hers.

“Yes,” She confesses, and it sounds like Blake had turned her head away as she thrashes, Yang’s chest tightens. “Everywhere. I –Yang, I’m so _close_.”

"Think of me," Yang demands, she moves her hand to ease some of the pressure. "Imagine me."

It's a command but Yang is taking her own advice. Conjuring up this wild image of having Blake here, in her bed, arms and legs locked around Yang's body, nails digging tiny crescents into her back, holding her in place, moaning heatedly in Yang's ear while she pins Blake down and fucks her senseless. It. This. All of it is a temporary madness. It builds up, coiling like a hot spring, and then...  

“ _Oh, God_.”

A few more moments and Blake let’s out a short sob that cuts at the pitch and breaks off into a sigh. Yang so desperately wishes she was there in person to watch her ride the waves, she shuts her eyes and tries with all her might to see what Blake could possibly look like while she cums.

All she hears is hot and heavy breathing that eventually evens out until it sounds like slumber.

And Yang knows this love is mania. Never was anything great achieved without danger. The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.

Then Yang hits the end call button.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super self-indulgent. Full of innuendos and the sexual tension we all know and love between Blake and Yang. Lust. Love. Will they? Won't they? All I know is I needed to force this out before RWBY invalidates all my headcanons. No spoilers by the way.

Yang slings her bookbag over her shoulder and lets the other strap hang as she stands up and heads for the libraries exit. The sky was a grayish purple with small bleeds of orange that resembled water being plashed onto a blurry canvas. It's significantly warmer. The Spring semester was a few days away from ending, with finals approaching and students trying to take time to appreciate the small bit of freedom before being forced to hit the books again and study.  

Yang feels her heart ache as her eyes flit around campus, couples littering about, talking intimately and sharing intent gazes. She closes her eyes and imagines what it’d be like to share that with someone. Could she and Blake do that? Walking aimlessly around without a care in the world, young and in love, throwing in all the best parts and leaving nothing left over.  

Her cheeks heat at the thought and Yang blows out a laugh.  

In love, she and Blake were nothing like _that_. No, their current foundation for a relationship was so inapt they were doomed to going off course and crashing into land minds. It's never said, and it doesn't need to be. 

While before they flirted like it was nobody's business, _now_ it was plainly unfiltered sexual banter. They never repeat what happened that night and sometimes Yang thinks the whole thing never even happened but then Blake makes it her mission to remind her. 

Like that one time where Blake had called late one night, after having a long day of studying and exploration she felt she deserved herself a small shopping spree in a little town, mentioning about going to a little boutique called  _Pure Seduction_.  

How the garments were so complicated that she needed to have one of the salesgirls help her into them. 

And while Yang listened with muted fascination. She didn't speak to Blake for three whole days after that. 

(The process was absolute torture.) 

It was Yang of all people who had never expected Blake to be so recklessly tempting in all of this. So blatant for Yang's affections to the point that she was borderline teasing Yang any chance she got. Many times, Blake baited Yang and many times did she consider buying a plane ticket halfway across the globe just to screw the sass out of her.  

 _Oh_ _,_ _so many close calls._  

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. And relax. She paces herself before keeping forward to her apartment.  

____ 

"So, you'll be here in the afternoon?" Yang asks while spinning her pencil between her fingertips.  

She's at her desk with a nightlamp on fighting between exhaustion and perseverance to finish up review for the last chapter. Her last study session before her final in the morning. Ironically, her last exam happened to be on the same day that Blake would be coming back. 

 _That would be when the real test began._  

"Afternoon the latest." Blake's voice holds a hint of thickness over Yang's headphones that has her eyelids lower and blood pumping harder.  

"So, after my final in the morning, I should be able to drive down to the airport with Ruby and Weiss to pick you up." Yang says out thoughtfully, mindlessly drumming her pencil louder against her textbook.  

She’s desperately trying to play it cool. To throw Blake off a little into believing that tomorrow is just another day and not the chance to address this –whatever they were doing face to face. 

"Sounds like a plan." Blake concedes, and if Yang could see her face instead of the words of text swimming in front of her she'd see that infamous smirk of hers. "And please get plenty of rest, you're no fun when you're tired."  

An opening. 

"Oh, well then I have a few ideas on how you can keep me awake." Yang taunts and speaks it into existence over the phone so confidently she wonders if Blake can see the ideas as sharply as she can. 

“I’m not giving you a lap dance.” Blake deadpans.  

She's so blushing. Yang knows it. 

“Aw, why not? I’ve been known to tip really good.” Yang pouts, knowing Blake can’t see. 

“So now I’m a stripper?” Blake scoffs incredulously, not really offended but doing what she can to keep up with appearances. 

“Only for _me._ ”  

She's met with a muffled giggle, and probably a roll of her eyes if Yang could see it. "Ace these exams first and maybe, just maybe you'll get some kind of reward for it." The sentiment is alive and breathing and it radiates everywhere creating just the fire that Yang relishes in. 

Four months since that night. They don't ever bring up their feelings, they just continue under the guise that... _Yang likes Blake and Blake wouldn't mind if Yang railed her_. It’s strictly sexual. Strictly professional. 

There is no underlying meaning hiding behind shadows, there's no way to deprive it of light. Even if you put another source of light near the surface of the sun, it doesn't change the fact that the main surface is still glowing, and Yang burns brighter than the sun. 

"I'll hold you to that, Belladonna." Yang grins.   

____ 

"Guys come on pick up the pace!" Yang barks, a considerable number of steps ahead of Ruby and Weiss.  

It’s Tuesday afternoon and they weren’t expecting the airport to be so crowded, and so Yang is impatient in the way she lightly shoves people out of the way in hopes of getting that much closer to the Flight Arrivals section.  

“Yang, can you _please_ slow down.” Weiss begs, and yelps when a bystander rams their suitcase into the back of her heel.  

In order to keep up, Ruby has a hold on her wrist and her eyes on Yang so as not to lose both of them in the stream of bodies going in the opposite direction as them.  

Instead, Yang ignores her friend. She uses her height and sense of direction to read the signs and scan the mass of people. She’s at that point where she’s bursting at the seams with excitement so her other senses, including the ones that would take an opportunity to make an ill-advised joke at the Ice Queen, are dulled.   

Blake has her head down, careful so the wheels of her luggage don't get stuck in the floor gaps. She still isn't looking up, but Yang spots her raven hair in the distance. Amber eyes look up searching the crowd with a furrow in her eyebrows and Yang can't help but think the expression is far too pretty on her.  

And then their eyes meet and Yang's paralyzed for two, maybe seven seconds, mind circling around and around but coming up with nothing but the image before her. With fathomless eyes, Blake watches her beneath lowered black lashes and purple eye shadow. Eventually, they get close enough that there aren't people crossing in front of them but it's still too far away. 

“Blake!” 

A pair of arms wrap her up in a bear hug, interrupting their moment.  

When she and Yang had slowed down, Ruby and Weiss managed to catch up. Breaking her focus from Yang and onto their friends. Ruby is talking faster than the speed of light itself. She’s so animated as she zips from one side of Blake to the other. Weiss rolls her eyes and waits her turn to give Blake a less than bone crushing hug. 

When Blake finally turns her attention back to Yang, that’s when she realizes she's been caught staring –a string of nerves threatens to take hold of her. Yang’s taken by surprise because everything she imagined and wanted is here but different in a major way. 

"I –you cut your hair," Yang says almost breathless. She rubs the back of her neck, grin sheepish. "...It looks nice." She knows the warmth on her cheeks is probably visible on her face. 

"Yeah?" Blake pulls a stray lock of hair away from her face, embarrassed, and suddenly Yang is hyper aware of every movement she makes. "I didn't say anything because I wanted it to be a surprise." 

"I like it a lot." Yang all but whispers and she swears Blake has slipped entirely underneath her skin and seized her heart.  

This is supposed to be the part where they embrace, but there's a brief pause before one even attempts to do anything. Yang awkwardly holds her arms out and the longer nothing happens the drier her throat feels.  

Blake moves forward first, hands twine around the back of Yang's neck as she practically  _melts_ into the strong grip. Her arms wrapped on the small of Blake's back, thumbs rubbing circles in her sides with intent and she swears she feels Blake shiver, the reaction causes Yang to pull her closer and it feels like everything coming together. 

Together like hiking down forgotten trails and railways, crossing creeks overflowing with the sudden rush of April rain and hiding in the found shelter in the warm safety of arms that’ll never waver, it feels like coming home. 

"I missed you," Blake mumbles into Yang’s shoulder like she has no intention of leaving that spot anytime soon. 

"I missed you too." The admission is enough to have Yang pull back slightly. Can she look at Blake without falling more in love with her? She wants to test the theory.  

A mistake. She knew it was as soon as she looked down, Blake's surprise mirroring her own, gaze electric, locking first on her gold eyes, then her lips. The bare inches of air between their bodies grow so hot Yang expects it to spark and steam.  

Gods, it would be so easy to bend her head and kiss Blake, to have the sensual press of her lips against her own and empty out the longing in her until there is nothing left.   

 _Ahem._  

A cleared throat and squinting eyes have them recoil like the barrel of a gun. Faces burning and eyes darting everywhere but on their stern and knowing best friend.  

Ruby only shrugs, unruffled. 

That's all the opening Yang needs to grab both of Blake's suitcases and lead the way back to her car and out of the stuffy airport. 

____ 

Yang leans over the shopping cart and uses her weight to push it further into the market. Grocery shopping by yourself is pretty straightforward. You jot down a list, head to the store, pick up a few items and you’re on your merry way. Once you bring someone, grocery shopping becomes an all-consuming, never-ending task. 

 _Blake_ _practically_ _lives with Yang._  

That’s the sentiment that Weiss had once said, and it was only half true. Blake doesn’t. She’s just over there so frequently that sometimes it’s easier to leave an extra set of sleep clothes, her favorite series of erotica to read, and her toothbrush. Yang doesn’t mind and Blake never questions how seamless it is to fall into these patterns.  

Blake hums as she strolls down the dairy aisle. Yang is bored but content with indulging in whatever activities Blake suggests they carry out together. Her best friend simply noticed the lack of food in her apartment and opted they go shopping for groceries. It’s strangely domestic. So mundane. Shopping for groceries reminds Yang that they’re on the same page, a team, and a damn fine one at that. 

While Blake is scouting between different brands of two percent, Yang uses the opportunity to stare unashamedly. The cut of Blake’s hair framing her face, the line of her mouth pouting in contemplation. Her personality manifests itself in the way she brushes her hair back, the way her eyes sparkle when she smiles, or how reluctantly she accepts a compliment.  

“We’re I mean –you’re out of milk.” Blake turns, heat spreads across her face at the slip up, Yang doesn’t mind the honest mistake but still, the significance means a lot to her. 

“Uh, yeah, that’s because I had a bowl of cereal this morning.” Yang strolls up to Blake and pulls one the cartons of milk she prefers out of Blake’s hands. Their fingers brush, and Yang’s world absolves of nothing and everything, threatening to snap like a rubber band pulled too tight. 

Yang swears there should be nothing passionate about shopping for food.  

Blake resumes browsing and whatever moment they were having was over. Yang trails behind her, pushing the cart and stopping whenever Blake mentioned what else they were out of back home. She starts grabbing all the necessities; bottled water, tea, fruits, bread, a small collection of Yang’s favorite snacks.  

And when the cart looks like it’s moderately full, she taps her chin in thought. "Anything else you might be craving?” Blake asks, now fully turned towards Yang. 

 _You._   

“What?” Blake stops. 

Yang clamps her mouth shut, flustered. She actually hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean... I think we’re pretty much done here.” 

Blake makes a face at Yang, amused. Like it’s easier to deal with Yang’s unease over her own. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”   

“Hey, I was thinking it, but I didn’t mean to say it.” Yang holds her hands up in defense. 

Blake laughs in response and the tension rolls off them with ease. She curls a hand around Yang’s bicep as they head to checkout. 

“Oh, we forgot the spicy ramen.” Yang sighs, reflexively running a hand through her hair. “Be back in a sec.” The thought of placing a kiss upon Blake’s cheek takes over Yang for an instant. She ignores it and tucks it away for safekeeping, and instead places a hand on Blake’s elbow and squeezes lightly.  

By the time Yang is back the sight before her makes her eyebrows crease, and she grips the pack of instant ramen tighter. The cashier not doing his job, a young man about their age, is leaning over the register, looking like he's trying to smooth talk his way into Blake’s heart or something. Blake looks extremely disinterested, with crossed arms and scowled eyes, it gives Yang an ounce of confidence.  

She begins to think of a way to let the little runt know that Blake is taken without tipping her off. It’s not really something they’ve talked about because Blake technically _isn’t_ hers, and Blake is a big girl who belongs to no one, and who can absolutely take care of herself. It’s not Yang’s job to-  

 _Okay, that was enough._    

Yang saunters over, pretending to have not noticed anything going on previously. “Sorry I took so long. The landlord called me about noise complaints all night. You’re so loud you’re gonna get me evicted.” She drones arrogantly and leans over to look at the total on the screen while at the same time sliding an arm around Blake’s shoulders. “Everything alright here?” She regards the clerk with casual intimidation. 

Blake looks up at Yang. No doubt caught off guard with such a public and personal display, as bold as it was but she’s not pushing Yang off and her body language seems relieved that Yang had shown up to intercept whatever the hell was going on before.  

“Uh, n-no, thank you for shopping with us.” The cashier all but salutes, back ramrod straight and looking apologetically at Blake for causing her any trouble. 

They walk out of the store donning opposite expressions. Yang smug. Blake incredulous. 

Blake elbows Yang once they get to her car, before letting out a small giggle. Saying how bad Yang is for teasing the poor boy. “I didn’t think you were like that, Yang.” 

“What is it hard to believe that I could have you screaming until four in the morning?” Yang asks in mock hurt, raising an eyebrow. 

“No. Not _that_. You know what, shut up and put the groceries in the trunk.”  

Yang obeys. 

____ 

 _Yang is starving._  

Vending machines are not the ideal place for a meal, but this is an emergency. After a pretty intense workout, strictly for core and back strengthening Yang felt like every fiber of her being was strung out. Cords of her muscles sore and screaming causing her stomach roar to life, Yang felt that she could eat for days. 

A groan spills from her lips when she reaches into her gym bag and realizes she had forgotten her wallet. “Damn it.” Her mind has been so distracted lately; she wonders if she’d forget a limb if it was gone.  

She shakes her hair loose from its tie and slouches in defeat. A tap on her shoulder has her whip her head around and jerk back. 

Blake bites down on her bottom lip to hold back her laughter, then she fixes her face, and keeps her arms folded behind her back. 

“Blake, what are you doing here?” Yang questions, and it’s not like Blake hates the gym it’s just that she chooses to avoid it at all costs, so seeing her here is unexpected. 

Welcomed but surprising. 

“I brought you some lunch.” Blake full on smiles, practically beaming and holds up the bag of takeout. “I brought enough for two.” 

There’s a shimmer of light in Yang’s eyes as she holds her hands up and looks to the ceiling indebted. “Gods, you’re too good to me. How did you even know I forgot my wallet?” 

“Lucky guess.” Blake shrugs, looking just a little full of herself.   

Yang smirks to herself when she catches Blake’s line of sight. Amber eyes darkening appearing blown, slide over Yang’s arms, the sleeve of her tattoo in full display and the muscles of her abdomen confined tightly against the skin of her midsection.  

It’s satisfying to know that she can elicit such a patent reaction out of Blake and when their eyes meet and Yang wags her eyebrows, grin looking wolfish, her heart races out of sync but she’s used to it enough to not let it show.  

The shock on Blake's face as she’s been caught is priceless, and she has no choice to deflect by coughing into her hand. Yang laughs loud and unchecked, still all sweaty and she towels off before slipping her tank top back on.   

There’s that same amount of attraction, but it’s followed by a lot of paying attention and some healthy doses of appreciation. It’s not that Yang is much of a helpless romantic, but she does find that  _growing into love_ is a little bit more substantial.  

“We can do the tables over there, or whatever.” She offers, waving a hand in the general direction of a few empty tables for multi-purpose use. 

Blake nods amiably and they make their way over, sitting across from each other while Blake sorts through what belongs to who. 

Things are quiet for a time, both too focused on their food to focus on each other, but about halfway into Yang’s yellow rice she lets out a ‘ _thanks_ ’ and meets Blake’s gaze. 

It causes her to giggle and swipe at the corner of Yang’s mouth. The black of her pupils swallows up the purple in her irises as she wordlessly watches Blake thumb away the crumbs. Blake makes an offhand comment about Yang being such a messy eater and the implications of her words cause them both to blush, but Yang takes it in stride.  

“The bigger the mess the more fun it is.” 

Blake sneers. 

“So, what brings you here, Belladonna?” Yang asks distractedly while pushing her vegetables off her plate and onto Blake’s, who allows her to do so but only because Yang split half of her spring roll. 

Blake gives a small smile that is entirely too perceptive. “I just had a hunch you’d be here. You’re always at the gym on weekends.”  

“Damn, and here I thought you were _going_ to say your Yang senses were tingling and so you knew to bring me lunch. But I’ll take a hunch over no hunch.”  

Yang takes another hearty bite, licking the excess off the corners of her mouth. She sees Blake’s eyes follow the path of her tongue across her lips, a quicksilver flash away from her eyes. It’s instant, almost instinctive, and she’s wondering what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers. 

She doesn’t comment on it, though. 

Blake takes a slow bite, and moans softly, sucking the contents clean off her fork. (Yang can’t believe she’s downright jealous of a piece of silverware.)  “Perhaps my  _Yang senses_ need a little bit of recalibrating.” Her eyes lower, accenting her light-purple eye shadow.  

“We can do a system restore when you’re free.” Yang nods her head slowly and suggestively, lazily bringing more noodles to her mouth with a simple smile.  

Seconds pass and her foot nudges her calf softly beneath the table and when Blake looks up, Yang is biting her lip and staring steadily.  

“Eat Yang.” Blake chides, with fabricated distress. She knocks the toe of Yang’s shoe with hers. 

“I’m trying.” Yang presses. There’s a slight curl of her lips and it spreads into a grin. Her bottom lip is still pulled in between her teeth as she smiles through it. 

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._  

 _“_ Gods, you’re so annoying.” Blake huffs trying to stifle her laugh, she looks down and back up, eyes meeting hazy amethyst ones briefly, before sliding away again.   

And Yang’s starting to think she’s close to finding that hairline fracture in Blake’s walls, she thinks she’s very close to striking it and watching it crack it open, and bringing them that much closer to mind-blowing sex, but instead, she chuckles and decides to leave it alone. Hardly another word was spoken between the two, and the sounds of weights clashing, and the whirling of ceiling fans fills the silence. 

Yang’s foot bumps Blake’s again. 

____ 

“Mass times velocity...” Yang yawns, flipping idly through her textbook, making a few miscellaneous notes on kinetic energy, which eventually led to scribbling aimlessly in the margins.   

Her room door was left wide open, giving a clear view of the hall and to the sounds of Blake chopping something on the cutting board,  _subtlety_ , Yang is inviting the invader of her kitchen into her room in hopes of a much-needed distraction.  

Said distraction comes later, much later than Yang would’ve liked, but glad it does. 

“Hey.” Blake greets before sliding inside the door. She slips around the back of Yang’s chair, seating herself on her bed like this was  _her_ living space.  

“Hey yourself.” She turns the page, moving onto the chapter about repulsive forces and thinking she and Blake were nothing close to that. 

“Getting ahead for summer classes?” Blake asks, flashing a little smile that was all-too knowing. 

“Just notes.” She gestures toward her book suddenly not interested in studying anymore. Her eyes travel briefly up Blake’s thighs and back down to the carpet. 

Blake leans back on her hands and crosses her legs. “Don’t let me distract you then.” She says, then does the exact opposite of what her words are supposed to mean. 

Bangs tickling vaguely at her temples, Yang’s entire body wilts over the book under her elbows, staring at it like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

There wasn’t enough science in the world to explain the raw churning in her stomach that brought itself to life whenever she and Blake were alone at night.   

It’s always like this. Like something primal simmering up and demanding to seek purchase of Yang’s hunger.  She hasn’t felt this turned on since yesterday. With Blake’s femininity and emerging sexuality firing up Yang’s imagination with a clumsy desire to fuck well into the morning, it’s an anarchic combination. Being alone with Blake means promises, a chance to retell a story they don’t even know the ending to.  

She jumps, feeling the cool slide of fingertips over her cheekbone, tucking her hair behind her ear. Blake smiles, though looking slightly embarrassed with herself as she stumbles out an explanation. 

“You looked upset.” 

“Nah,” Yang stretches, straightening her posture to one that was less crippling to her spine. “Just thinking too much.”     

“You’re very diligent tonight.” Blake says, and her hand returns to the stray hair at the side of her face, placing it behind her ear again.  

And to Yang’s even greater pleasure, she places her hand on top of Yang’s head, playing through her hair to the base of her skull and the back of her neck, Yang’s eyes slip closed as she gives in to Blake soothingly combing her slender fingers upwards then down again.  

Blake continues to caress Yang, and Yang decides she really likes the scratch of Blake’s fingernails against her scalp, she groans out a curse and slightly lulls her head back.  

“Alright, break’s over. Back to work.” Blake mumbles lowly, abruptly ending the moment, her hand slipping away, and Yang nearly wants to grab it and put it back and beg her to keep going.  

“It’s just Physics.” Yang’s tone is short, scowling, flipping through the pages looking appropriately put off by the whole subject.  

“Just _Physics_? You live and breathe this stuff.” Blake’s face scrunches, she blinks, then relaxes.  

She folded her arms over the back of Yang’s chair and if Yang leaned her head back just a little bit, she could nestle the underside of her chin and brush her lips against the corner of her jaw. And when Yang does, she expects a stutter or a hitched breath, at least, but instead, Blake leans fully into it, much to Yang’s amazement.    

A slow and subtle shifting of weight set in motion by a series of happenings. Yang is helpless to stop it. She caves in like she’s being pushed over the deep end, forced to stay afloat.  

“All that knowledge, expertise.” Blake goes on, seemingly unaffected towards Yang’s ministrations, which gives Yang the consent to keep going.  

She can feel the pulse of Blake’s heartbeat coming alive. The way Blake turns just so, brings herself down closer, and curls her arms around Yang’s shoulders. She makes herself as comfortable as she can be just standing. Yang’s lips drag up the soft skin of her neck, gently nipping at her ear lobe. 

A gasp and hands squeeze down on broad shoulders to steady herself, and - _finally_. There’s the reaction Yang’s been working so hard for. 

“Are you talking about me or physics.” Yang murmurs against Blake’s skin. 

“It’s all relative.” Blake says all smoky, feigning disinterest and Yang wants to split her apart. 

But it’s Blake who pulls back earning a whine from Yang. 

“But seriously you should focus. I don’t want the blame for your grades slipping hanging over my head.” Blake quips. She moves to stand out of Yang’s reach, hands on her hips meaning she’s basically made up her mind.  

“I could practice multitasking.”  

“Goodbye, Yang.” 

And she’s gone, closing the door behind her. 

____  

“Shh!” 

Blake collapses in giggles against Yang, finger pressed to her lips. Yang rolls her eyes at her, disbelieving that she could forget that she lives alone in her apartment and they’re the only two here. 

“B-Blake!” Yang mumbles, trying to steady them both. Okay, so Yang maybe might be a little tipsy herself, but not as bad as Blake is. “No one is home.” 

“That’s good.” Is all she says before walking to the kitchen. 

Yang follows her, sitting on a stool while she watches Blake roam her fridge for something to eat. Yang props her chin on her hands and regards her. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” Blake kicks off her shoes and hops onto the counter by the sink. Yang watches with a drunken smile plastered on her lips. 

“Yeah. I know I’m not the best dancer...” 

“You suck at it.” Blake laughs blunt as ever. 

“And yet I still got that girl’s number.” Yang boasts, shifting through her back pocket to pull out the napkin with digits scribbled on it, holding it out in triumph. “Uh, whatever her name was, she was pretty feisty.” 

For half a second nothing happens, a barely perceptible change in the atmosphere. Blake’s face turns into something of _annoyance_ as she looks off to the side. “Yeah, well it’s not hard to –to just grind against someone who can’t dance.” She says with a bite to her voice. 

 _Ouch._  

Yang is drunkenly smart enough to know when to nip something in the bud, but still, the absolute jealousy unraveling on Blake’s features is painfully exquisite. She lets her eyes slowly drink in every curve and angle of the woman situated before her.  

Blake’s mouth is set in a slight frown, her breathing steady and sad. Yang has so much that she wants to get off her chest, she hadn’t known where to start so she stands both helpless and corrected. Thoughts like, ‘ _I d_ _o_ _n’t want that girl the way I want you_ ’ play on a loop in her mind but she’s too intoxicated to reel the words up and out. 

Blake stumbles in her haste to jump off the countertop in indignation. Yang takes hold of her arm and rights her. 

“Come on.” Blake leaves her half-eaten sandwich on the counter and drags Yang into her living room. “Sit.” She pushes Yang down on the small couch and turns on Yang’s beat-up wireless speaker.  

A song begins immediately and Yang watches in quiet admiration, watching Blake’s eyes fall shut as she moves, hips swaying to the beat without a care. Yang sits as possibly still as she can and grips the armrests a little tighter. Then Blake stops, and her eyes open slowly. She looks at Yang, face devoid of expression.  

The music stops and starts up again with a new song. This one was more sensuous than the first. 

“Come here.” Blake commands, beckoning Yang closer with her finger, and it comes out so incredibly despotic, it’s downright sexy to Yang, she trips out of her seat with urgency. 

Very slyly Blake pulls Yang’s hands from her sides and rests them lowly onto her slim waist, then her own forearms press onto Yang’s shoulders, the tips of her fingers brushing into the wisps of Yang’s locks. “Sometimes dancing is about submission.” She whispers like she’s on the verge of hunting prey. 

Yang notices the intensity held in Blake’s gaze, a fire scalding in her golden irises that has Yang weak in the knees, this was something she had never seen from Blake before.  

Yang gulps. 

“You’re tense.” 

“I-I’m trying to be a good listener-” 

“Don’t listen. _Follow_.” 

Blake spins her body, but only halfway. Pushing her back flush against Yang’s chest. Yang’s hands have no choice but to rest high on her thighs, the fabric of Blake’s dress is little to nonexistent so it’s like Yang is basically touching her, hands burning like hot coals on skin and silk.  

One of Blake’s arms slides up behind her, cupping the back of Yang’s neck, bringing it down, allowing for Yang to rest her head on the crook of her neck and shoulder.  Blake still leads them through the chorus, never missing a beat. 

Yang’s afraid of the danger of being out of step and left behind. And so, she follows. Where Blake pushes, she pulls. When Blake grinds, she rolls. And it’s like this dance is manifesting their wants, their desires into an apparition. The spirit has become flesh. This is lust alive in its purest form. 

Starting here. Now. This is just too good, too destructive. 

____ 

Yang was getting restless. 

Every minute she’s away from Blake has her thinking about Blake. Every activity reminds her of Blake. Even things that have nothing to do with Blake is Blake.  

It’s starting to become a problem. 

The kinds of problems that spiked the inky black temptation in her heart that made her want so badly whenever Blake was or was not around.  

It’s not like Yang has nothing to go by either but that’s what makes this even more intense. It’s because she _knows_ , she knows what Blake’s moans sound like when she’s close, how her voice pitches high and cuts off like a vice around her throat when she cums. Four months passing and two weeks of provoking did nothing to calm Yang’s thirst.  

The deep-rooted wanting was too big for the hours of the night. It would swirl in the pit of her stomach and surface into reality during the day. 

Desire is the kind of thing that eats her and leaves her starving.  

Yang wants Blake. 

If not now. 

 _When?_  

____ 

The night whispered of memories and screamed of longing. Yang has an idea, a risky, incredibly stupid idea, but it was what brought them here in the first place. Everything comes rushing back with the same intensity of the moment it first happened. She’s selfish in the way she wants to relive it again, ground it into small pieces and remold into something better, something greater. 

Yang’s hand trembles while she scrolls through her contacts and taps the send call button, she waits, the phone rings once, then twice... Blake answers and before she can get a word out Yang just- 

“I want _you_. So badly Blake, right here, right now. I don’t want anything else.” Her voice lowers to a throaty drawl. The ache between her legs, growing steady. 

The hesitation doesn’t surprise Yang in the least. In fact, it drives her. “Yang-”

“I want to touch you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fuck you so good.” She reveals. At this point, Yang thinks the best approach is the most direct. It’s the most fundamental to the baser instincts of her wants. And she wants to touch Blake in all the hidden places unknown to her and kiss her in all the special ways she deserves.   

The reaction is instantaneous, as Blake whimpers right into the phone. The dull ache becomes a full-on throb. 

“Blake, please don’t do _that_ unless you want it.” Yang chokes out a groan, it’s aggressive like she’s trying to hold herself back from bursting into literal flames. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” 

There’s sounds, skin and cloth, Yang tries to make sense of it, but she can’t. “You want me that badly?” Blake asks prettily, and it’s like Yang can feel the ghost of Blake’s hands, one tracing the outline of her heart, the other sliding down the waistband of her pants.  

“Fuck yes.” Yang says with a sureness she hopes makes Blake understand. 

“Take me. Do whatever you want to me.” Blake urges, quavers desperate.  

“...Open your door.”     

A pause. 

Then footsteps. 

Her door opens. 

Time fucking stops.  

Yang is standing there, quiet, pure desperation spelled out in bold letters on her face, eyes glassy and rugged. Her throat bobs, when she gets a load of Blake in a too big t-shirt, everything else about her defines aroused. Then Yang’s gaze slides up to her face, the puzzlement clear in her wide eyes like she can’t believe Yang is here right now (and not going anywhere else). And hearts pound like low notes on piano strings, wondering what the other was thinking. 

Blake surges forward, her lips on Yang’s and fucking finally her heart sings. 

It starts with a gentle pressure that’s quickly surpassed with a messy sort of abandon. Blake’s arms reach out and twine around Yang’s neck, pulling her down, demanding. It’s as if a switch in her mind has been turned off and her senses on, Yang gives in and tastes Blake’s mouth.  

The desire takes over and Yang is powerless, she can’t fight it, even if it held its fists out and squared up, she  _can’t_ stop.  

Lips, Yang’s, hesitantly open under Blake’s and her warm tongue slides into her mouth, Blake moans like a sigh of relief, and the sound strikes like a match. Yang’s hands drift, squeeze, then cup, against the curve of Blake’s ass and lift. Blake’s slender legs instantly catch around Yang’s waist while Yang moves further into the apartment. 

She kicks the door closed, still holding Blake up with ease, but still, she stumbles into Blake’s bedroom. It was always the scent of lavender, faint and fresh and scarcely noticeable by the way honeysuckle hugs the air on sultry summer mornings heavy with the sweat of the day before. Yang’s head spins and her knees buckle against the edge of her mattress, when Blake rolls her hips once, the friction sends Yang spiraling. 

She drops Blake with haste and follows her down like a magnetic force, settled in between her legs, quick to kiss her again.   

Blake pushes back just a little. “Wait _,”_ A peck _._ “I need to know,” Another kiss, this one deeper as Yang bites her bottom lip, “That this isn’t just physical.” Blake intercepts, shying away when Yang tries to lean in again. 

Collecting her breath and her thoughts, Yang’s face suddenly becomes still. “Blake, I’ve been crazy about you since before we met.”  

“That’s impossible.” Blake mutters, but still, she melts. 

“It is possible.” Yang says it with such certainty, Blake can only smile softly in response.  

They stare at each other, breathing quietly as they catalog each other’s expressions. Waiting. Then Blake’s hands are reaching out, grabbing Yang by her jaw, kissing her hard. And Yang slips back into that similar smoldering heat. It was slow and tender, Yang wanted to take her time, ensuring Blake that this was all real, but then Blake pulls Yang down harder against her and thus the beginning of Yang’s downfall commences.  

It had to have all happened accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. Never in Yang’s wildest dreams would she have thought she and Blake would ever get to this point. All she can feel is satisfaction thrumming in her chest, and she wonders when it became clear to her that Blake was the only girl, she ever wanted this way.  

Yang sits up, her skin too hot underneath her shirt and discards it quickly. Tossed over her shoulder without care.     

Blake only looks up and bites her bottom lip, and Yang has never seen her look like this, so turned on. Yang’s lips move from the corner of Blake’s mouth to her jaw and down her neck, holding wet kisses to her throat. Further down and Yang bites at Blake’s collarbone. A sharp gasp and Yang dips her face into the curve where the collar of Blake’s shirt drops the lowest. 

At this point, Yang just wants to touch her everywhere. All at once. _Please_. Blake wordlessly nods.  

Slowly, Yang slips Blake’s top over her head, more inches of skin peek out and Yang stares. She’s still for a moment, not sure what to do with this all-consuming need to devour her. Blake’s lithe body is perfect. From the swell of her hips and breasts, to the scar on the corner of her hip, it’s the first part of Blake Yang touches. Gently, she brushes her lips against the rough patch then up, slipping her eyes shut, then back down murmuring Blake’s name into her skin over and over like a prayer.  

Yang travels back down her navel, down another inch and before she can get any closer to the waistband of black lace...  

“Baby, I’m wet,” Blake confesses on an exhale, and Yang confirms when she presses a hand against damp warmth. “ _Fuck_.” Blake quivers, and Yang swears everything that was once aligned has tilted severely off its axis. 

Her pupils' contract, morphing into dark pools of crimson, she blinks trying to will it back before she loses it completely. Too late. “Off,” Yang growls, already tugging her panties down her shapely legs. “Take these off.” 

And when Blake is laid completely bare, sex is the only thing on the forefront of Yang’s mind. Yang’s entire intention is conceited and selfish, she wants Blake to remember this, to memorize it like it’s as instinctual as recalling her own name. Her ambition is to make it so good, Blake will always come back begging for it, needing more every time. She’s selfish because she wants Blake all for herself. 

At first Yang, tests, maybe teases, in the way she presses her lips against Blake. Barely there, and Blake tenses in anticipation, pushing her hips forward but Yang doesn’t give in. All those months of ribbing, teasing, and building up lust, only to be left with nothing but an empty bed, fighting between touching herself until she passed out or letting it persist for this exact moment, so she can take all this pent up frustration out on Blake.

Yang wants to drive her a little crazy.  

“You’re not-” (Doing anything? Tasting you?) Blake sobs, and it dies in her throat when Yang licks, her tongue flat and firm. Tasting Blake puts her under a spell like an incantation, and her next thought is to frustrate her to the point of ruin. 

Yang wants Blake to beg for it. 

Then it’s back to shallow sweeps of her tongue that won’t snuff out Blake’s need to be fucked, but still isn’t giving her what she truly needs. She's right in the middle of the two. Yang feels wrong in the way it makes her feel so righteous. All those times where they could have –should have been this.     

Blake’s back arches, and she surrenders _."_ Yang _please."_ Blake pleads like she’s begging for her life. 

Yang descends like she was the one being held back, like someone was bounding her telling her to 'stay'. The noise Blake makes is loud and unrestrained, and it drives Yang to want to rip more sounds like _that_ from Blake’s throat. Her mouth brushes passed her folds, and her tongue strokes over her clit, warm and wet with every intention to shatter Blake.  

Yang's wanted this for so long she feels she can't even think back to the exact moment when. She wants to put all the blame onto Blake for turning her into this, drowning into lust without a second thought, without holding her breath. Becoming the catalyst for it. The way Blake calls Yang's name, frantic, sends her carnal.   

Yang can’t help it, she presses Blake’s thighs open wider, and when Blake begs over and over, grabbing at the base of Yang’s head forcing her closer, Yang understands, she knows what she was asking for even with the words _'don’t stop_ ’, she has something to help.  

Then without warning, she slides in two fingers and curls them up, while her mouth still sucked and licked at her clit, switching in tandem between the two. Blake’s hips buck so hard that Yang has to brace an arm across her hips to hold her down. Still, it’s not enough to deter her. With each rough thrust of Yang’s fingers and every flick of her tongue, she knows Blake is close, she can feel it in the way she shakes like she’s beginning to crumble, to fall apart.   

Then this high moan the breaks off into a gasp, like Blake’s struggling to catch her breath. It’s the same sound from four months ago. Only it surpasses the phone sex by miles. It fills Yang’s mind and drowns her senses to narrow on everything about Blake coming undone. She thinks about how she might be addicted. Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.  

Blake convulses and Yang doesn’t stop (it's not enough), instead, with little to no effort, she flips them over. Yang does what she can to support Blake’s upper body, while she sits her directly on top of her face and still fucks her with her mouth. Her tongue finding itself deeper with every thrust up, chin soaked with Blake’s release.  

“-What the _fuck_?” Blake rasps, staring down in disbelief before her jaw drops and eyes slide shut at the onslaught of her second orgasm hitting her fast.  

Yang hums against her, letting Blake ride her face, matching her writhing pace as it slows down to smaller spasms. Blake falls forward a tad, hands on either side of Yang's head. Yang's hands find purchase to her hips to steady them as her body goes limp. Blake finally taps out and shifts off her. Yang makes sure to be careful not to get worked up over the movements.

Yang takes a greedy gulp of air, and her chest huffs as she catches her breath, she’s not quite worn out but Blake cumming in her mouth managed to momentarily satisfy her. Her eyes fall to Blake looking beautiful, intimate in the linen sheets and thoroughly spent in her post-fucked state. Yang reaches out, running her fingers through her black silky locks. Blake’s eyes slide closed against the pressure.  

“Wanna go again?” Yang verbalizes her seriousness with a tug on Blake’s naked hip, so bold, so fond. 

Blake’s eyes snap open. “Your stamina is... scary.” She says disbelieving and her voice is horse, from the rawness of her moans. Yang chuckles deeply. “Besides,” Blake crawls on top of Yang, she rewards Yang with a slow and sensual kiss, immediately it spurs a response, her hips jerking up against heat. “It’s your turn.”   

Down to the very marrow of her bones, Yang felt it, she was hers.  

Yang grins. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this took about 15 hours with breaks in between and I am officially dead. I gave this fic my blood, sweat, and tears and I am merely a shell of my former self. Hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I did writing. Peace out!


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